Energy of Phish stirs Great Woods July 11, 1994 - Providence Journal-Bulletin by Andy Smith Vermont-based rock band Phish has built its following the old-fashioned way, through constant touring. And it's been successful enough to nearly fill Great Woods Friday and Saturday nights. Phish is one of the so-called "neo-hippie" bands whose spiritual, if not musical, father is the Grateful Dead. And certainly there are grounds for comparisons. The atmosphere at a Phish concert is closely akin to that of a Dead show, right down to the loose-limbed dancing and the (authorized) tapers recording every note. A lot of Phish fans are also Deadheads, and Phish is developing a following nearly as loyal as the Dead's - the group sitting next to me at Great Woods had driven up from New Jersey for Saturday's show. Most of all, both bands share a love for free-form improvisation on stage. But Phish is even more eclectic than the Dead, wackier than the Dead and (at this point in both bands' careers) considerably more energetic than the Dead. Phish has a deliberate, appealing playfulness - with loopy lyrics and a drummer wearing a dress - that's very refreshing in a grim musical landscape of gangsta rap and grunge. The band's musical skills are formidable, which means it's capable of some intriguing twists and turns onstage. On songs like "Foam" or "Gumbo," Phish can move from near silence to big funky noise on a dime, throwing in everything from gospel organ to avant-garde dissonance to screaming metallic guitar to jazz piano. On the other hand, its penchant for lengthy jams can bog things down, which is what happened in the middle of the second half of their show Saturday. Phish's most recent LP, Hoist, is a more focused, melodic record than its predecessors, Rift and A Picture of Nectar. Songs from Hoist included the sweet, sad "Lifeboy," a bouncy, rocking "Down with Disease" and "Scent of a Mule," a bizarre bluegrass hoe-down about an encounter with a UFO into which Phish managed to insert a vaguely East European segment before finding its way back to "Scent." For a change of pace, Phish can come up with a lovely, straightforward ballad like "Silent in the Morning." The second half of the 2 1/2 -hour show, which opened with the fanfare from 2001, started with a series of long, rather meandering versions through "Split Open and Melt" and "Fluffhead," then got back on track again with a countrified "Pour Heart" and a springy Phish favorite, "Tweezer." "Suzy Greenberg" made for a hard-charging closer, with a piano workout from Page McConnell in the middle. The encore, "Sleeping Monkey," presented Phish at their goofiest, with drummer Jon Fishman warbling a cappella, and a closing riff lifted from the Beatles "Let It Be."